You Look At Me And, Baby, I Want To Catch On Fire
by SereneCalamity
Summary: They'd been carrying on this relationship in secret for some time now. Mob!AU. Jonsa. Oneshot.


**So I'm not a _GOT _watcher, mainly just flick through Tumblr when each new episode comes out and what my husband and friends watch. But I love this ship, fucking Sansa is my _Queen_. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the title, which comes from _Always Remember Us This Way _by Lady Gaga. **

Jon Snow pursed his lips together as he watched Sansa Stark walk over to her brother, throwing her arms around Robb Stark and giving him a tight hug.

She kind of looked out of place, in a tight, high waisted skirt that showed off her strong thighs and narrow waist, and a ruffled, emerald blouse with no sleeves, and heels that probably cost more than what some people earned in a month.

Jon and Sansa had known each other since she was fourteen and he was seventeen, and at first it had been almost a brother/sister relationship, but after she had gone off to boarding school—along with her two younger siblings—because things had gotten a little bit too dangerous in Chicago for Eddard Stark's family, things had shifted between them.

They saw each other a few times, but only after long intervals, and every time, they were both a little older, both a little different, and when Sansa had officially come home, she was eighteen and there was a tension between them that hadn't been there before.

Sansa didn't _have_ to work—her father was one of the richest, most powerful men in Chicago—arguably for a lot further as well, but she wanted to.

After graduating high school, she did an accounting degree, which she passed with flying colours.

It sounding like a boring degree, but Sansa was smart, and she also knew that while it would get her a nine to five job, like she wanted, it would also be useful when it came to her family's business as well.

She did an internship at the accounting firm that looked after her fathers affairs, and now she was six months into being a qualified accountant, and everything that Jon heard said that she was killing it.

As expected.

Sansa was still talking to her brother, but she was now facing the room, and Jon saw her eyes on him for more than a polite period of time.

When they caught his eyes, he raised an eyebrow slightly, acknowledging her, and Sansa bit down on the corner of her lower, pink lip in a way that she knew drove Jon crazy, and then she flashed him a quick smirk before turning her attention fully back to Robb.

It wouldn't take long.

It never did.

Since she had come back from boarding school, that tension between them had grown, until the flame had actually turned into a full blown fire, and on the night of a particularly brutal but triumphant night for the Stark Mob, things had suddenly exploded, and Jon still had blood on his fingers and a barely patched up bullet wound on his arm when he had ripped her clothes off her slender body and taken her against a broken fridge in the basement of the Stark's manor.

That had been just over three years ago.

Sansa was the daughter of a powerful mob boss and Jon was one of his lieutenants and best friends with his eldest son—the son who would eventually take over the family business.

They had to be careful.

Plus, there was always something so exciting about the forbidden, and the secretive, and it kept things burning fiercely.

Arya Stark knew, because she had walked in on them, and Margaery Tyrell, who was the girlfriend of one of the other men in Eddard's employment, and she seemed to just know _everything_.

They were going to tell Eddard and Catelyn Stark soon, they were planning on just after her twenty-second birthday, giving themselves just a few more months before things changed.

Hopefully for the better, although that was already a high bar to exceed.

Sansa left first, heading toward the long hallway that stretched all the way from one end of the manor to the other.

Jon waited a few minutes longer, and then he put down his beer on the smooth, wooden bar that he had been leaning against and he headed in the same direction as Sansa.

There were other thirty people in the house, as was usual on a Friday evening, which was the night that Catelyn demanded they all come together as a family and have a meal together, which usually resulted in gambling and a _lot_ of drunkenness as well.

It kept them all close.

They _were_ a family, of sorts.

Jon checked the first few rooms that he came across, the main lounge and the pretty much full sized gym, but after noting that they were both empty, he took the stairs up to the second floor.

The emerald blouse that Sansa had been wearing was on the ground, buttons all open.

Jon snatched it up, his pace quickening.

The next thing he found was one of her shoes, then the other, and Jon found the gorgeous redhead in one of the bathrooms, wearing a rose and black coloured lace bra and her high waisted black skirt, which made her look...Incredible.

Mouth watering.

Fucking intoxicating.

"Can't be too long," Sansa whispered, tilting her head to the side so that her long hair fell forward over her shoulder. "You know how mum gets when people are late to the dinner table."

Jon's mouth was over hers, pushing her head backwards as his hands gripped her waist and pushed her back until she smacked against the vanity unit, and their mouths were bruising against one anothers, so familiar to each others movements and taste, Sansa's hands went to his curls, pulling on them to the point where his scalp stung, but it just encouraged him to kiss her harder.

When he pulled back, her lipstick was smeared and her eyes were glazed over, and then his hands were on her hips, spinning her around and reaching down to grab the hem of her skirt.

"_Fuck_," Sansa groaned as Jon pulled her skirt up, over her curved ass so that it was all bunched up at her waist, and he could see the rose and black lace thong that she was wearing that matched her bra and showed off her ass.

Jon's hand came down with a slap that echoed off the tiled walls.

He really should have closed the door, but he wasn't going to stop now.

Sansa would probably punch him if he did.

Her ass was so perfect, and if they had more time, he would have fucked her there, but they had to be back in their original condition and down at the dinner table in about fifteen minutes which really didn't give them enough time for _that _particular prep, so Jon had to settle for just squeezing her ass one last time before tugging aside the flimsy fabric of her thong.

One strong, calloused hand pressed into the centre of Sansa's back, pushing her forward while tugging at one of her hips, so that she was bent over the vanity unit, and her ass was sticking out.

He only pushed down his jeans and briefs enough to pull his cock out, already hard and pre-come gathering at the head.

Jon pushed into her without any other preamble, and Sansa let out a high pitched whimper, one hand reaching out and smacking against the glass of the mirror, her head lifting to look at their reflection.

Jon's eyes were torn between looking down at where his cock was disappearing inside of Sansa and the way her ass was bouncing, and the mirror, where her face was reflected back at him, her lips were open and her eyes were hazy, barely able to keep open even though it was clear she was trying.

Sansa's cunt was tight and hot around Jon's cock, and he was so glad that he could feel her around every inch of him, and that they had stopped using condoms about a year ago.

She was fucking perfect.

"J-_Jon_," Sansa groaned out as he thrust into her, one of his hands still firmly between her shoulder blades and the other on her hip, pushing and pulling her in the way and at the speed he wanted.

And Sansa went with him.

Sometimes she wanted to be in control, and she was good at getting what she wanted, delaying his orgasm until he thought that he was going to pass out, or forcing him to eat her out until he thought he might suffocate in the best possible way, but a lot of the time, she let him be the one in charge.

Sansa came first, and usually, Jon would make her come at least once more, but because of their time restraints, he just shifted his grip, the hand on her back moving to her shoulder and pulling it back so that her back was to his chest, and his hand went to her throat, wrapping around it, his tan skin contrasting starkly with her pale neck.

Jon slammed into her, watching as her breasts moved in the bra she was wearing and the way her eyes were rolling back in her throat in the their reflection in the mirror, and it was only a few more thrusts and the choked off whimpers from Sansa before he was coming, hot inside her cunt.

"Fuck," Jon growled out, dropping his head forward and biting at her shoulder as the orgasm ripped through him.

His hand dropped from her throat, to the edge of the vanity in front of her hip, and after a moment, he turned his head to the side so that he could press a kiss to the curve of Sansa's neck.

Sansa turned around, wrapping her arms around Jon and snuggling into him enjoying the moment of peace and quiet.

"We should probably get cleaned up. Head downstairs," Jon murmured and Sansa nodded.

"Soon," she whispered.

"Soon," he replied.

**Let me know what you think x**


End file.
